


Daffodamn You're Gorgeous

by angelofthequeers



Series: Beelicious [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean's so in love, Flowers, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, It's just pure fluff guys, Kissing, Kitchen Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Pancakes, Romance, lazy sunday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofthequeers/pseuds/angelofthequeers
Summary: It's not that Dean's having an internal crisis. It's just that...he's having an internal crisis. Because he loves Cas to bits and now he struggles to come to terms with what that means.





	Daffodamn You're Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.
> 
> Y’all have ‘Angel’ by Theory of a Deadman to blame for this piece of ‘so fucking sappy it rotted my teeth writing it’ junk.
> 
> I also realised that my writing tends to change depending on whose POV I’m writing from (like Dean seems way more perfect when I’m writing as Cas but when I’m writing as Dean, Cas seems far happier and beautiful and Dean more flawed). Chalk it up to these assholes being in love and thinking that the other is the most beautiful thing since ’67 Chevy Impalas. ~~Fuck you guys for ruining my life and giving me unrealistic expectations.~~

 

Cas is the most beautiful thing in the world. That’s a Fact. Hell, Dean’s known this since the first time he laid eyes on Cas in Beelicious. Cas is gorgeous when he’s surrounded by his flowers, smiling tenderly like each one is his child. He’s stunning when they’re snuggled on the couch watching one of their movies and he’s engrossed in the action, or laughing his ass off, or bawling his eyes out. He’s breathtaking when he’s riding Dean’s cock with his head thrown back and his plump lips parted, or underneath Dean and writhing madly in the throes of pleasure, or thrusting into Dean feverishly yet tenderly (which doesn’t happen as often; Cas prefers to bottom and seems to have a flattering love for Dean’s cock and putting said cock into his mouth or ass in any way he can).

It just doesn’t _sink in_ until one Sunday morning in April. There’s nothing really extraordinary about the day itself, except for the fact that it’s Sunday and therefore Dean can spend the whole day with the man he’s falling so deeply in love with ( _‘fuckedsofuckedshitbadbad’_ is a common thought of his these days, though mostly out of fear than any sort of revulsion).

“Fuck…” Dean groans, shielding his eyes when he rolls over and cops a face of sunlight. Great. Cas forgot to shut the damn curtains again. The curtains are left open six days out of seven in order to stop them from sleeping in, but Sunday is the one day where they can both sleep in and Cas freaking forgets to shut the curtains half the damn time. Hell, the sunlight doesn’t even bother him nine times out of ten; Dean can’t understand the man’s freakish ability to sleep through sunlight straight to the face.

Of course, Dean could just remember to do it before bed instead, but that’s not what’s important here.

Unable to ignore the sunlight, he reluctantly cracks his eyes open with another groan of complaint. Once his streaming eyes adjust to the brightness, what he sees rips his breath out of his chest and holds it hostage.

It’s Cas, asleep next to him. It’s a sight that Dean’s seen so many times before but…he’s never stopped and seen just how beautiful Cas really is. Cas’ hair sticks out like a dark, glossy halo, sheens of brown visible in the black where the sunlight hits him. His plush lips hang slightly open in sleep, small snores escaping when he exhales. His limbs are sprawled rather awkwardly, his shirt riding up as it always does and exposing Cas’ tan belly and those goddamn _hipbones_ , the ones crafted in Heaven just to drive Dean wild. And right now, with the sunlight framing him, he looks like a fucking angel straight from above.

The realisation suddenly hits: Dean’s got an actual angel in bed with him.

Cautiously, afraid of waking Cas up, Dean reaches out and runs his fingers along Cas’ cheek, pads scraped by the stubble on his boyfriend’s face. Cas makes a small noise and grimaces, so Dean freezes until Cas stops stirring and settles back into lightly snoring. Once he’s certain that Cas isn’t going to wake up, Dean resumes mapping out his lover’s face via fingertip.

Dean stops dead. Did he just call Cas his _lover_ in his mind? He takes a moment to try and avoid freaking out, only to find that the only freaking out he’s doing is freaking out about freaking out. Huh. What the hell has Cas done to him?

It’s brushing his thumb across Cas’ lips that wakes Cas up for real, and his eyes flutter open to catch Dean in the act. Dean freezes again, unable to move as Cas yawns and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“Sorry,” is all Dean can think to say. “Didn’t mean to wake you –”

“Dean.” Cas shuffles over and wraps his arms around Dean, snuggling into his chest with a content sigh. “Shut up.”

Dean can’t bring himself to go back to touching Cas like before, so he settles for carding his fingers through Cas’ soft hair while he buries his face in the crook of Cas’ neck. As Cas’ earthy smell invades his nostrils, Dean realises just how much he actually loves Cas. Like, way too much than he should for only having Cas as a boyfriend for seven and a half months.

The only reason he doesn’t panic is so that he doesn’t wake Cas again. Calling Cas his lover is one thing – but admitting how much he loves the guy? Nuh uh, no way, no thank you, not going to happen.

But oh fuck, how Cas makes him float on clouds.

* * *

 

In a way, it kind of sucks that Dean came to this realisation. He doesn’t _hate_ the fact that he loves Cas this much. It’s just…now that he’s truly aware of what an angel Cas is, he can’t help but see it every damn time he lays eyes on Cas. Like when they finally drag themselves out of bed at ten in the morning and Cas decides that he wants Dean to teach him how to make pancakes.

“Dean, there are still lumps,” Cas complains as he mixes the pancake batter. “I’m scraping the sides of the bowl for flour like you said but it’s not –”

“Here,” Dean says. Before what he’s doing can actually sink in, he’s sliding his arms under Cas’ and grabbing Cas’ right hand with his own. Cas makes a pleased sort of hum as Dean mixes with him, leaning his head back so that their cheeks brush and his hair tickles Dean’s nose, while Dean tries desperately to control his racing heart and will his legs to keep supporting him.

Shouldn’t this have worn off by now? It’s been seven and a half months but this all still feels fresh and new, like they’re still in the early stages of falling for each other. As far as Dean can remember, he still didn’t feel this new spark of infatuation seven months into any of his other relationships, yet Cas can still make him giddy and breathless by just being in the same damn room. Whether this is a good or bad thing, Dean has no clue, but part of him doesn’t ever want this spark of love to fade, while another part of him yearns for the comfortable familiarity of love that comes when people have been together long enough for that infatuation to simmer down.

Finally, the batter’s been mixed as smoothly as it’ll go, and Dean’s stomach swoops when Cas turns his head and beams proudly, like he’d succeeded at something way harder than mixing pancake batter and it’s all thanks to Dean.

“I want a taste,” Cas declares. Dean wrinkles his nose when Cas licks a large blob of batter from the spoon, then has to try his hardest not to imagine the spoon being…ahem, something else.

“Dude, seriously?” he says. “You don’t just go around licking the utensils and shoving them back in. Cross-contamination.”

“Considering where our mouths have been, I highly doubt that cross-contamination would be our biggest issue,” Cas says matter-of-factly. Dean chokes on the laugh he tries and fails to contain.

“You asshole,” he wheezes. Cas just smirks, almost like he’s saying ‘yeah, I went there. What are you gonna do about it?’ Or maybe Dean’s just projecting.

He’s suddenly struck dumb for the second time that morning. Cas is still smirking at him but he suddenly looks absolutely radiant in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. Along with this, he’s got a bit of batter smeared across the side of his mouth from licking the spoon, and a swarm of butterflies suddenly erupts violently in Dean’s stomach.

“Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Dean’s mouth says without permission. Cas’ smirk turns into a self-conscious smile as his eyes flick away, which only serves to set anger simmering in Dean’s gut. Christ, he wishes he could give Cas’ exes a piece of his mind and a fist to the face. Cas is so kind and smart and gorgeous and it kills Dean that he doesn’t believe this because of how he was treated in the past.

“Come on, Dean,” Cas says suddenly. “I want to learn how to flip pancakes.”

“Then next thing you know, you’re on those shitty daytime cooking shows,” Dean quips with a small smirk. Cas laughs at that, his whole face lighting up, and Dean can’t help himself any longer; he leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Cas’ mouth, licking up the batter, then moves his lips slightly to capture Cas’ whole mouth. Cas groans, hands rising to cup Dean’s jaw, and Dean slides his arms around Cas’ waist to pull him closer as he deepens the kiss.

“What was that for?” Cas says dazedly when they separate for air. Dean just grins.

“Had some batter on your face. Where’re the chocolate chips?”

Teaching Cas to cook pancakes is easier than expected, and it only takes two tries before Cas produces an asymmetrical but nicely golden pancake with a wide, proud smile. Dean rewards him with a kiss, then shows Cas how to flip pancakes with the pan.

“‘S all about the wrist movement,” he says.

“You have very nice wrist movement,” Cas says. His voice is completely neutral but his face is far too innocent to actually be innocent, so Dean laughs and kisses him on the cheek.

“Man, I’ve corrupted you,” Dean says proudly.

* * *

 

The next time he realises just how beautiful Cas is, they’re at the store to pick up some groceries.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean says. When Cas turns, Dean smirks and holds up a red box. “You like strawberry?”

Cas snorts loudly.

“Flavoured lube is the bane of my existence,” he says. “I’ll never forgive you if you buy it.”

“Good thing I didn’t get it on Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“Yes. Or you never would have gotten laid.”

Lips twitching, Dean replaces the strawberry lube and grabs some plain lube, along with a box of condoms. As much as he wants to feel Cas without that thin barrier, he knows that Cas isn’t ready to bareback yet and there’s no way he’s going to pressure Cas into anything. Plus, Cas already said that he does want to feel Dean come inside him at some point; it’s just a matter of when he’s ready.

“What d’you want for dinner?” Dean says as they leave the personal care stuff behind. “Butter chicken? Beef stir fry? I make a mean lasagne.”

“Burgers,” Cas says firmly. “I want your burgers, Dean. I want to eat nothing but your burgers.”

“We had burgers on Thursday night!”

“So? They make me very happy.”

“Fine,” Dean grumbles, though he’s not actually annoyed. In the produce section, while trying to find tomatoes that aren’t squishy for the burgers, he hears a laugh and looks up at Cas.

“What?”

In response, a grinning Cas holds up a carrot that seems to be two carrots melded into one.

“I love finding abnormal fruit and vegetables,” he says. “They’ve always made me laugh.”

For the third time that day, Dean’s rendered speechless by Cas. The way Cas has a silly smile as he holds up the abnormal carrot is one of the most beautiful things Dean’s ever seen, and he ends up staring at Cas for so long that it catches Cas’ attention.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas says, smile fading. Dean just shakes his head.

“Nothin’, Cas. You wanna grab some lettuce?”

While Cas is gone, Dean does a quick search on his phone. After a moment, satisfied with what he finds, he shoves his phone back into his pocket just before Cas gets back with a small head of lettuce for the burgers.

“Admit it,” Dean says. “You just like my burgers ‘cause they make me eat rabbit food. You’ve been talking to Sam, haven’t you?”

Cas laughs loudly at that.

* * *

 

“I’ll never get over how good you are at that,” Cas says breathlessly as Dean rolls off him and sprawls on the bed next to him. “Wow.”

Preening, Dean slips the condom off and fumbles on the bedside table for the tissues to clean them up, then lobs the messy wad in the general direction of the bin.

“Sometimes I wish you’d top more,” Dean says, tugging Cas close. “But then I see how much you love my dick and it’s a real ego boost.”

“So humble,” Cas says dryly. Dean snorts and starts to run his fingers through Cas’ sweaty hair. He’s never been able to keep his hands out of Cas’ hair since they started dating but hey, Cas loves it.

And right now, covered in sweat with his dark hair wildly all over the place and no clothes on, Dean can’t even begin to put into words just how beautiful Cas is. Maybe it’s just Dean and his love-addled brain but he can’t stop seeing Cas as an angel, fallen from Heaven straight into his bed. The hell has he done to deserve this?

“Dean?” Cas says a few minutes later. Dean blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring at me again. You’ve been staring at me all day. Is something wrong?”

Dean’s stomach lurches at the worry in Cas’ voice.

“What? No way!” he says and kisses Cas on the top of his head. “I just…Cas, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

A frown crosses Dean’s face at just how disbelieving Cas sounds.

“I’m gonna punch Arthur and Meg,” Dean growls. “And Inias, if I’m still pissed.”

“Dean –”

“No, Cas! It just – it makes me so _angry_ that they fucked up your head so much that you don’t believe you’re good enough! Because – because you’re so gorgeous and so giving and you just –”

With a cry of frustration, Dean lets go of Cas and slides out of bed.

“I’m not pissed at you,” he says when fear flickers across Cas’ face. “Just – stay there.”

In the living room, he retrieves his surprise from his duffle bag – where he’d stashed it to keep Cas from finding it after their store trip – and quickly fills a vase to stick the gift in. Cas’ mouth drops when Dean returns.

“Daffodils,” Cas murmurs, leaning over to bury his nose in the yellow blossoms when Dean sets them on the bedside table on his side. “‘Regard. Unrequited love. Sunshine. Respect’ –”

“‘The sun shines when I’m with you’,” Dean finishes uncomfortably. “I – that’s why I’ve been staring at you. I got woken up by the sun this morning and I just – fuck, Cas, I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

Dean makes an overexaggerated gagging noise.

“You made me say _that_ word,” he complains. “My reputation’s ruined.”

“I think I could be persuaded to keep your secret,” Cas says, lips twitching. Dean beams in response and crawls back into bed, slinging an arm over Cas’ waist and dragging him close.

“You’re gonna believe it one of these days,” Dean says, brushing his lips over Cas’. “I’ll make you see it. I’ll also be making voodoo dolls of your exes.”

“Voodoo isn’t real, Dean,” Cas laughs, tucking his head underneath Dean’s cheek. Dean reaches up to run his nails down Cas’ back, making the man shiver violently.

“Don’t care. It’ll make me feel better.”

There’s silence for a few moments.

“You…really think I’m…all that?” Cas says hesitantly. Dean squeezes him tighter and kisses him again.

“Damn right. You’re a literal angel, Cas.”

Cas flushes dark red and buries his face in Dean’s chest. But he doesn’t protest, so Dean counts it as a win.

“Love you, Cas.”

Everything freezes. Dean stiffens, terror flooding through his system when he realises just what he’d said, but when Cas looks up at him with a look of utter shock that turns into a brilliant smile, Dean realises that he’s not panicking nearly as much as he thought he’d be.

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas pushes himself up on his elbow and, laughing, starts to pepper kisses all over Dean’s face. Dean echoes his laughter, hauling Cas on top of him and tangling his fingers in Cas’ hair to tug him into a messy kiss.

“Love you,” Dean says giddily against Cas’ lips. “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Cas grinds down feverishly, groaning.

“Round two?” Dean says with a slight hitch, his downstairs brain promptly taking over. Cas grins wickedly as Dean’s hands slide down his back to his ass and squeeze.

“Definitely.”


End file.
